He stared at me as though I had slapped him.
“Are you serious right now?”
“Then explain why you’re acting like this.”
“I’m working, I’m stressed, and I come home to another argument about marriage. Now you’re accusing me of cheating?”
“I’m asking you a question!”
“And I’m telling you that you’re being ridiculous.”
The word stung.
I stood up, my hands trembling.
“I’m not ridiculous for wanting to marry the man I’ve spent six years of my life with.”
“We share a mortgage, Allison! We bought a house together. We pay bills together. What more commitment do you want from me?”
I felt tears gathering in my eyes.
“A mortgage is a financial agreement, Mark. It isn’t a marriage.”
“So everything I’ve done for you means nothing?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
I swallowed hard.
“I want a husband. I want someone who doesn’t make me feel as though asking for a future together is an unreasonable demand.”
